


New Beginnings

by DetectiveAtWork



Series: oh, how i mourn my people [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Air Nomads (Avatar), Anger, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Post-Episode: s02e12 Harmonic Convergence, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveAtWork/pseuds/DetectiveAtWork
Summary: Bumi had spent his whole life begging to be a bender, finally coming to the conclusion that he never would be.Until the harmonic convergence happens and everything he ever knew is flipped upside down.
Relationships: Bumi II & Kya II (Avatar), Bumi II & Tenzin
Series: oh, how i mourn my people [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007955
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Hope you're staying warm (or cool)! I wrote this yet again in between exams. This was actually what I had originally intended to write when I started this series and although I'm not entirely thrilled with it, I decided to post it.

Bumi could count on his hands thrice over how many times he had wished for this when he was younger. He had begged the spirits, bargained, _anything,_ to get this _._ How ironic that as soon as he had gotten over the desire, or in his own words, the _innate need_ to be a bender (of any kind!) he turned into an airbender. 

It was shocking to say the least. 

He had never understood any of his great-uncle Iroh’s quotes, but he felt that he finally understood the one Iroh had said many times to him. _Be careful what you wish for._

He wished he had a camera to capture the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces when Meelo had thrown the plate at him. The world had stopped. Jaws hanging, eyes nearly glazed, the whole table froze in wonder as Bumi had bended the air for his protection. 

Then afterwards, the excitement, the bafflement! Everyone clueless as to how this happened, not knowing if this was the spirit world or reality. Would this last? It was full of confusion, laughter, and joy. 

But, later, when the sun had gone down and Bumi had just a sliver of a moment to himself on the island, it really hit him. _He was an airbender._

All he could think of was his father. 

Bumi remembered when he realized he wasn’t a bender. He was young, maybe five or six, when he asked his parents why he couldn’t ride a ball of air like his father or why he couldn’t splash people like his mother. There was no judgement, no air of hesitancy when his parents told him he was like his Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki. At the time, that was enough. His aunt and uncle were the greatest people he had known! Of course he was happy he was like them!

And then Kya came along. And then Tenzin. And Bumi was still Bumi. 

He was lonely for a while, that was for sure. He had spent a majority of his early teenage years lamenting his lack of bending status. He would flinch at the harsh words of the press, people in passing, claiming that _‘the Avatar couldn’t possibly have a nonbender son.’_

It took a while and a lot of friends and family to assure him that he was nothing _less_ because he couldn’t bend. He had found friends who appreciated him and taught him to accept and love the life that was given to him. 

When he joined the military, he was surrounded even more by people like him, struggling to find their way in a world that seemed dominated by those who could bend. Together, they fought hard with blood, sweat, and tears to become well respected soldiers. It is, to this day, the proudest thing he had ever accomplished. 

“I can see you’re about one second away from pulling an Aunt Toph,” his sister said. She leaned against the doorway of the meditation room with her arms folded. It was just dark enough that he could make out the light blue of her nightgown, but her figure still made a silhouette in the lowlight of the hallway. He looked out the window. 

“She would rock slap you if she heard you say that.” He replied with a small smirk. She gave a huff of a laugh before joining him by the window. She wasn’t wrong though, today had been a lot. It would be nice to get away for a bit. He could feel her cerulean gaze, the same as their mother’s, on him. As always, his sister had a spot on intuition. 

“I mean it though. To say this is a lot to take in is an understatement.” He nodded in agreement. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “But, I really think you should embrace this.” He turned sharply, the anger that had been simmering in him boiled over.

“Embrace this?!” He snapped glaring at his sister. “I had just, _just_ gotten to the point in my life where I was happy being myself. Made a life and career for myself! Finally becoming my own individual person! Not caring that everyone saw me as ‘The Lesser Son’!” The nickname made Kya wince and she looked down at the window sill placing her hand on the cool surface. Bumi breathed heavily for a few moments before closing his eyes. 

“As much as I wanted this _years ago,_ I don’t want this _now.”_ He squeezed the cool concrete of the window sill making his knuckles of his tanned skin turn white. “This-this has to be a mistake! Maybe some weird type of spirit sickness or something. I’m too old to just have airbending come out of its latency!” Kya hummed. She casted another glance at him. 

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to wrap your head around this. Your aura is all muddled with confliction. But as much as I hate to say it, Bumi, you _are_ an airbender now. Lash out, scream, sob, _do anything,_ but I don’t think this is something that can be _changed.”_ Kya moved to put her hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away with a dark look in his eyes. 

“There is one way,” he muttered. Kya stiffened and gave him a look of horror and anger. 

“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, to be cut off from yourself. It’s...barbaric.” Her gaze hardened with her last word and Bumi swallowed harshly and turned his gaze back outside. The waxing moon was high in the sky now with stars glittering on the harbor below. Beyond the silhouette of his father’s statue was the city bathed in yellow artificial light and bustling despite the late hour. The two siblings gave a few breaths in the quiet night with only the sound of subtle waves crashing and intermittent soft rings of the chimes. 

“That’s the thing, though, if I were to have Korra…” he drifted and kept his head straight forward, unable to vocalize his thought. “I _know_ of a life without it. I can live without it, _I have_ for all my life.” It was true and the both of them knew it. Having Korra take away his bending wasn’t something that should be taken lightly, but his case was...unique. Kya sighed and gave him a compassionate, sympathetic look.

“I don’t think this decision is something you should make in one night, least of all tonight. At least talk to Tenzin-” 

Bumi cut her off with a bout of sardonic laughter. 

“Tenzin! Of course! We know what he will say!” He ignored his sister’s incredulous look and paced behind her. “Somehow it always comes back to him, isn’t that right? I mean, I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade and take the spotlight from his boot-licking acolytes by stealing his title of ‘Avatar Aang’s Airbending son’!” With his high emotion, a gust of wind burst from the movement of his hands, rustling the thick curtains on the window and Kya’s hair. Neither looked particularly surprised or perturbed. 

“Regardless, I still think-”

“See! This is what I mean! This happened to _me._ Not to you or to Tenzin!” He blew out of his mouth. “This, _for once_ , is about me! My entire life has been turned upside down and now I don’t even know who I am anymore!” Bumi exhaled and his body sagged. Kya’s eyes glistened in the moon and candle light with sadness and another look he couldn’t interpret. She moved to him, pulling him into a hug. 

“I know,” she told him, squeezing harder. “I’m trying to tell you that you _aren’t alone._ This is your decision to make, Tenzin and I...all the others, we’re here. You don’t have to do this on your own. _”_ The two of them stayed in the embrace before Bumi pulled back with a wry grin on his face. 

“You think that Tenzin will be upset that he’s not the golden child anymore?” He wagged his eyebrows, but stopped when he saw his sister's face turn serious. 

“No,” she said soberly, looking him in the eyes. He had no choice but to lock his gaze with her, confused as to why his joke had been taken seriously. Even moreso when she gave him a cryptic answer. “I don’t think he will be.” 

  
  


* * *

After the embrace and a few minutes of silence, Kya announced that, despite the near full moon, she was going to bed. She left Bumi staring at the city in silent contemplation. 

Within a few minutes, he became restless. Despite the hectic and action packed day, he was still wide awake as ever and didn’t want to sit and mope about. Closing the curtains to avoid the early morning chill, he decided to head towards the kitchen in hopes that a midnight snack would solve all his problems, just like his uncle had said they would years ago. 

The hallways were shadowed with dwindling candlelight and it was almost eerie as he made his way around the temple. He was lost in his thoughts and thought he might have accidentally taken a wrong turn due to his distracted mind, when he heard faint whispers coming from down the hall. Intrigued, he followed them. 

He ended up outside his niece’s room and grinned at hearing his brother’s children’s voices. Seems he wasn’t the only one having a late night. Moving to the side so they wouldn’t see his shadow under the door, he held his ears to listen to his nieces and nephew talk. 

_“-know, Ikki! We don’t know how many!”_ Jinora’s stern tone rang out, reminding him of Tenzin and his mother whenever someone needed a scolding. There was rustling and a distinct sound of chewing. He smiled again as he realized they too, had discovered the late night snacking idea. 

_“I just hope there’s kids! Oh, we could finally all-”_ Ikki’s dreamy statement was cut off by her brother. 

_“We could have races!”_ Meelo exclaimed, ignoring Jinora’s shush. Ikki squealed in delight at the thought, ignoring her sister. 

_“You’re right! We could finally play with others! Oh, I hope there’s girls who like to play tea parties!”_

_“And boys to make fart noises with!”_ The children babbled excitedly about their desires. The voices all mixed together in childish glee and Bumi had a hard time separating them.

_“Maybe there’ll be someone my age who likes to read!”_ It was Jinora who’s voice rang out. Her siblings groaned, but joined in on her exploring her desires. It held the same childish joy that her sibling’s voices held and Bumi’s lip quirked. He couldn’t quite grasp what they were talking about until he heard Meelo gasp in realization. 

_“We could finally have enough people to play airball!”_ The siblings gasped in delight. 

_“You’re right! We won’t have to wait for daddy to be done with work to have an even number!”_ Jinora exclaimed. The incoherent babbles continued and Bumi felt an odd pull at his heart. The smile on his face started to fall.

_“I can’t wait to finally play_ real _airball with others!”_

Playing. With other airbenders.

His nieces and nephew weren’t worried about the lives that were changed. Oh no, they were worried about _playing._ They were children, how could they be concerned with other people’s existential crises? It was so, so _simple_ and Bumi’s stomach clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed away from the wall, his whole body feeling numb. He felt like he had fallen into the icy water in the south. His time in the kitchen could wait, he needed to see his brother. 

* * *

If he thought his head was buzzing before, he was wrong. His mind now was raging with the force of a thousand waves, a storm so large that people cowered in their homes until the sun shone again. 

He was racing towards any room in the temple, desperate to just find a place and sit there until the storm passed. _Tenzin,_ he thought. _He needed to find Tenzin._

As if Yue herself blessed him, Bumi, so preoccupied with his own internal thoughts, slammed into another body, nearly taking down the two of them. Righted with the grace that could only be an airbender, Bumi looked into his baby brother’s eyes and was startled to find them rimmed with red. 

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Pema? Do we need to get Kya?” Startled as much as Bumi, Tenzin shook his head and gaped at him before finding his words. 

“Nothing! The baby is fine I - I just, I-” Bumi took the opportunity to drag him back into the empty office he had stumbled out of in the hopes that nobody would awaken. Tenzin seemed to babble more, unable to properly articulate his thoughts. The older brother in Bumi awakened and his mind suddenly calmed to a flat ocean, seeking only to figure out what was wrong with Tenzin. 

Bumi could barely see Tenzin’s face in the dark office. A sliver of moonlight broke through the thick red curtains allowing the two of them to see the barest hint of facial expressions. Looking into his brother’s gray eyes _(so like their father’s)_ seemed to snap Tenzin into action. Bumi opened his mouth, ready to interrogate his brother when the shadow of Tenzin blurred and he was suddenly squeezed into a strong hug. 

His brother was crying. 

The sight itself was not new to Bumi. After all, he had been old enough to witness all of Tenzin’s childhood, and sometimes teenage, tears. But that was years ago. He hadn’t seen his brother this out of sorts, well, ever. 

Bumi squeezed back and for some reason that made Tenzin cry harder, his tears staining the night clothes he was wearing and creating a moist patch on Bumi’s shoulder. A few moments passed and the only sound was Tenzin’s sniffling and the trickle of the water fixture their father had put in his office for their mother. 

“Tenzin, what’s wrong?” 

“I just-” his brother cried. Tenzin pulled away and analyzed him in the same way Kya did. Eyes roving over him, looking as if he wanted to make sure that Bumi was still here. Bumi reached and squeezed a bicep that was gripping his shoulder harshly. As if finally realizing that yes, Bumi was in front of him, Tenzin pulled him into another tight hug and hiccuped. 

“Tenzin, what-” Bumi began again but was cut off by the muffled speaking of his brother. Bumi scrunched his eyebrows together. Having enough of this over emotional escapade, he tugged Tenzin back. “Tenzin, what in the Spirits is going on?” 

Tenzin took a few deep, meditative breaths. His eyes were still full of unshed tears and he used his yellow robe to wipe away at them. 

“Bumi, there’s _others.”_ Was all he said. As if that magically explained what all of his blubbering was about. 

“Yes, baby brother, we spent all day talking with people all over the world who can all of the sudden airbend. I, myself, can now shoot air out of my hands!” Bumi jokes, raising his brows. He was waiting for the _“That’s not how it works!”_ but it never came. His eyebrows dropped when his brother let a few more tears shed. 

“I know, you’re an _airbender!”_ He said the words reverently, like Bumi was some type of venerated Master. Still a bit confused, Bumi crossed his arms. 

“Yes, now you get to share that _honor_ with me.” He said the word with enough disdain that he could feel his Uncle Zuko’s hard gaze bore into him all the way from the Fire Nation. “I hope you won’t be upset when you have to introduce me as-” 

“Upset?!” Tenzin looked confused and angry for a moment. “Why would I be upset?! Do you understand what this _means?_ Do you know how long _I wished-”_ he broke off, his voice watery. Bumi’s arms slowly dropped out of the defensive position. The fountain trickled in the silence. 

Bumi looked at his brother, not answering and allowing him to compose himself. Tenzin gulped again and looked towards the ornate desk that was once their fathers. Even in the lowlight, the outline of the large desk could be seen. It was ostentatious in its nature, given by the first president of Republic City as a show of solidarity with the Avatar. At the time, their father was working on building this Temple. The desk looked out of place in the minimalistic room, except for the Air Symbol carved onto the front. Bumi remembered being small enough to trace the swirls, sitting at his father’s feet as he worked. 

His reverie was broken when he heard Tenzin sniffle sharply and he turned and found his eyes boring into him. 

“You’re an adult,” Tenzin said. 

_Okay, now he’s lost me,_ Bumi thought. He scrunched his face in confusion. 

“Yes,” he enunciated slowly as if speaking to a child. “I’m _older than you_ by-” 

_“No,”_ Tenzin shook his head. He looked agitated that Bumi couldn’t understand whatever message he was trying to convey. “You- I-” he took a moment to compose himself. He sighed allowing his shoulders to droop. 

“Do you know how long it's been since I’ve spoken to another adult airbender?” 

The question itself seemed to suck the air out of the room. The answer instantaneously popped into Bumi’s head. He could, if he wanted too, almost break it down to the day since they had lost their father. 

Suddenly, Bumi understood. 

The day all rushed back to him. A vertigo of memories washed its way across his mind and almost made him lose his balance. The conversation between his nieces and nephew rang in his head. The face Tenzin makes right now, looking at him as if he’s speaking to a relic. 

He wants to laugh at his own short sightedness. Minutes ago, he was contemplating whether or not he wanted his newly acquired gift to be taken away. Now, he wants to cling to his newfound gift with all his might. How could he not see the bigger picture?

“-understand how much this means.” His brother was apparently speaking still. He looked up and found Tenzin with glazed eyes not quite looking at him. 

_“My children,”_ Tenzin stressed. He locked eyes with his. _“My children will never know the loneliness that I did._ ” The emotion in his voice made Bumi’s eyes water. 

_“Tenzin-”_

“Brother, you don’t understand how much this means to me.” It was said without judgement or a stinging tone. It couldn’t be, given how Tenzin was in tears again, shaking from either emotion or exhaustion. If Bumi wasn’t the only other person in the room, he might’ve felt that he was intruding on a personal moment. 

Again, Bumi found himself being squeezed in a tight embrace. Tenzin shoved his head into his neck and Bumi felt the tear that dripped down his collar. He went to wrap his arms around Tenzin and almost missed it when Tenzin whispered:

_“You have no idea how happy I am that you’re one of the new airbenders.”_

* * *

Alone in his room, Bumi stared at the wall. After the hug, Bumi escorted his younger sibling to his room, telling him to try and get some sleep, as tomorrow they would have many things to do. 

Sadly, his adventure to the kitchen was postponed, having lost his appetite since the conversation with Tenzin. His thoughts however, though slowed, were still intrusive in his mind. 

He thinks it's funny how he used to tease and groan, _and be jealous_ of Tenzin's emulation of their father. Especially after his death, Bumi found it almost like Tenzin was mocking him. A child playing dress up. 

He had told his squadron this, one sad night, when he had drunk a little bit too much firewhisky. He couldn’t understand why Tenzin couldn’t _get friends, build his own life, be his own person-_

His friends had laughed with him, agreed with him, making him feel validated. 

He thinks of how jealous he was when dad was late to dinner because he was _meditating with Tenzin, teaching Tenzin new forms, playing with Tenzin._ The thoughts used to burn at his insides. Bitter jealousy and borderline hatred would fester its way into Bumi’s heart and then die out when his father would ruffle his hair and ask about his day. He would then elaborate on all the schemes he and his buddies pulled off, ignoring the look of reprimand from his mother and reveling in the laughter and approval of his father. 

He wonders if _Tenzin_ was jealous in those moments. 

It was sad actually, and he almost had this same revelation when he was younger, realizing that Tenzin, besides his family, had almost no friends. He had pushed the thought away naively, thinking that it was his brother’s haughty behavior that was the cause. 

Bumi had known what it was like to be lonely. But Tenzin- _Tenzin_ knew what it was like to be _alone._

Tenzin had no other children to play with, he had nobody else, with the exception of their father, who understood what it was like to be a _child of air._ He did not see or hear this longing until now. He didn’t even think of it until he had heard the childish glee of being able to play airball, a simple childhood game, _because they would finally have enough people._

No wonder Tenzin tried to be like their father, he had nobody else.

His thoughts were muddled as he mechanically got under the covers in his bed. 

  
  


He was an airbender now. He was considered endangered now. His people -though he supposes they were _always_ his people, but somehow he felt _more like them_ now- would live through him. The burden his brother and his children bear will now rest on him too. A daunting thought, but like Kya said- he wouldn’t be alone. 

_(Alone like his brother had been. Like his father before Tenzin.)_

“A second chance,” he whispered to nobody into the night. But, really, it was a new beginning. A warm, light breeze drifted in the window, moving the drapes ever so slightly. He smiled and closed his eyes. 

Bumi supposed he had always been an airbender at heart, he was always told by his father how he encapsulated his people’s spirit, reminding him of his past.

He had spent his whole life, ironically, trying to avoid and evade the overbearing thoughts and actions of other people. He spent years trying to run from what he thought was the prison his parents put him into when he was born; thinking they were defining him by what he _wasn’t_ instead of what he _was._ Having this thrusted upon him could be something different. He had always admired his own courage and strength when it came to knowing himself.

He had always liked new challenges and exciting stories. A new sense of duty and responsibility fell over him. This is something bigger than him. _An airbender,_ he thought, _this could be something good._

He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

**Author's Note:**

> As I said earlier, this was my original idea for this series and I had been waiting to actually write it so I didn't rush anything. My main point (or one i loved the most and wanted to emphasize) is the children talking about playing airball. It's something I can totally see happening and I really wanted that to be a slap in the face to put things into perspective. 
> 
> Of course, my one whole big strife with LoK is the way they almost pit the siblings against each other and imply that Aang and Katara are bad parents (I could actually write an encyclopedia as to why they're not). I always felt that Bumi's sudden air bending (again, i have issues with the whole harmonic convergence in general) was not given the seriousness it was due given how much they built up the tension and almost guilt that he wasn't a bender. 
> 
> I tried to allow Bumi some anger, but again, he is a child of genocide. No offense, but his feelings, while valid, are moot considering there is a desperate need for air benders (double bonus since he grew up in the culture). The emphasis of this series is to focus on the AN and I wanted to show maybe what Bumi decided when he started to pursue becoming an airbender. I hope I did the characters justice and I'll try to continue writing more (maybe with ATLA characters)! 
> 
> Thanks for the read! leave a kudos, comment, or whatever!


End file.
